The Business of Time Travel Tourism

Chapter 4: The Old Man

June 20, 2014. Friday.

"You won't believe a thing I'm going to tell you," John said, gasping. "I was doing my questing, listening to the music, and then wham. A leg of my chair broke, and I fell. You can't imagine how surprised I was when I got up and found my old roommate staring at me, angry as never before. He had been away for a year or two, thought he had disappeared for good. For as long as I knew him, he had always been a kind-hearted person. But there he was, throwing threats, all enraged to see his money missing."

George did not like one bit where this story was going. Real life problems were so annoying and troublesome.

John continued, "I'm sorry to let you down, but I need the one k I gave you, or else he's going to break all my possessions. He said he would even break a couple of my bones if he felt like it. Don't know how I'd keep on living if my PC was destroyed." He fell to his knees and sobbed. "Please, Georgy, help me."

"No problem, John. This should be more than enough." George threw the bag of silver to John in almost the same manner John had given him the money and said, "This is more than one thousand."

"Thank you, thank you." John opened the bag and puzzled by its contents asked, "Where do I turn these into money?"

"At Hill's pawnshop a block from you, towards the Zoo, they even have the rates put on the street." George knew Mr. Hill quite well, and it was the reason he came up with the idea to accept precious materials as a payment. In that pawnshop, during his childhood days he had sold quite many forgotten and rarely used items from his home. That was the main reason he had more candy than the other children.

"George, thank you so much. I don't have the words to express my gratitude."

"You're welcome."

What meant to be a beautiful moment of friendship was quickly messed up by John's question.

"Have you got more?"

"Huh? How much?"

"Something like ten thousand."

George's forehead wrinkled. "No. Why you ask?"

John hugged the bag and said, "I ate well during the year of my neighbor's absence."

George noticed that John spoke the truth indeed. Thick cheeks were hiding beneath his friend's oily hair and the bag lay comfortably on a small bump that was a well-concealed belly.

George never enjoyed talking about money and problems, and by all means he avoided conversations about money problems. So, he decided to escape.

"Now, John. If you excuse me, there are things waiting for me back at the house." He stood up.

"George do you have any job for me? I could run some errands if needed. You wouldn't have to pay much."

"I'll call you if anything comes up," George coldly replied before stepping into the house and shutting the door. For a minute, he peeked through the peephole and observed John walk away with his head bent down, then turned around and took a deep sigh. Real life problems were not the problems George was good at dealing with.

Back in his room, he took the silver coin out of the pocket and put it on the table. And as he turned the loudspeakers on to listen to some music, they produced a continuous irritating interference sound similar to the one his mobile caused when connecting a call. It did not stop before George put the coin into a thick metal box in which he kept his savings.

******

The next morning was the most beautiful morning George ever had. He never heard birds chirp before, yet now they played a joyful tune everywhere he went. The sun shone brighter, the food tasted better, even mother's depressing note on the fridge, which George often avoided reading, was inspiring. Every day the words were different, but the meaning hidden inside them was always the same. The note said, 'Get a job, I did not raise my son to be a tramp.'